© Copyright 2026 - Peter PHIR! It’s 2 AM in the blue light of my phone Counting down the hours that I’ve felt this far from home I saw the cracks in my conviction start to spread Remembering every words you said when I was hanging by a thread You told me, "Wheat gets shaken in the winnowing grain, Some nights you lose your balance just to learn the name of rain." I felt the tremor in my chest, the fear of giving in, But under all my slipping hands, you were already in the wind. I’m praying for you when the ground gives way When the dark pulls hard at the end of the day And when the dust settles down and you find your feet Turn back around, turn back around Find the brokenhearted on the edge of town And make them strong again, make them strong again. I struck the match, I took the fall, I broke the pledge Left my boots beside the river at the jagged edge Walking back with heavy heels and quiet shame Wondering if grace still knows the letters of my name But you didn't ask for a speech or a polished defense You just pulled up two chairs by the wooden fence Said, "Every scar you carry isn't proof that you failed It’s just the blueprint of a mercy that prevailed." I’m praying for you when the ground gives way When the dark pulls hard at the end of the day And when the dust settles down and you find your feet Turn back around, turn back around Find the brokenhearted on the edge of town And make them strong again, make them strong again. Look at the bone where the break healed tight It holds more weight than it did in the light I was interrogated by my own dark thoughts Buying back the peace that my pride had bought Now I see the brother with the trembling hands Standing in the storm where I used to stand I grab his jacket and I look in his eye: "I’ve been where you are, kid, you’re not gonna die!" I’m praying for you when the ground gives way When the dark pulls hard at the end of the day And when the dust settles down and you find your feet Turn back around, turn back around Find the brokenhearted on the edge of town And make them strong again, make them strong again. Soft piano underneath the midnight quiet We build the altar out of all the trial Keep the lamp lit, keep the faith alive You stoke the fire so the rest survive Turn back around... Yeah, make them strong again. © Copyright 2026 - Peter PHIR!
